The Masochist and the Suicidal
by tgifridays
Summary: ”...For those who have been following the story in the papers, this is the seventh heist the couple, recently identified as Japanese citizens Shirogane Ryou and Momomiya Ichigo, has made this year...” RyouIchigo, AU, Oneshot


Oh my God, I can't believe I just missed the deadline for K.K.'s contest. I totally thought it was October 7th, not 2nd. Which is sad, because I love entering contests, and I was really proud of this fic (even though I'm not really a RxI fan), which is based on the lives of criminals Bonnie & Clyde. I guess it's my fault for missing the deadline, though, because I've been procrastinating so long.

P.S.: Someone should hold a PxL fic-contest, because I would be all over that like gravy on. . .potatoes. I dunno. I'm not very good with metaphors.

P.S.S.: Even though no one's seen hide nor hair of me for like, nine months, I'm still crazy about your writing, zenagaserpent. You inspire me to write. Srsly.

**The Masochist and the Suicidal.**

_They don't think they're tough or desperate _

_They know the law always wins _

_They've been shot at before, but they do not ignore _

_That death is the wages of sin. _

_Some day they'll go down together _

_And they'll bury them side by side _

_To few it'll be grief, to the law a relief _

_But it's death for Bonnie and Clyde_

"Excuse me, but is this yours?"

Ichigo Momomiya glanced up from her notepad, locking eyes with the man sitting beside her. In one hand he was holding a small plastic container at eye-level.

"I think this fell from your pocket," he said, shaking the prescription bottle.

Ichigo flushed, eyes widening with alarm as she identified the medication. "Ah, th-thank you. I can't believe I dropped that. . ."

It was a warm summer day in late June as light filtered through the windows onto the man Ichigo was currently waiting on. She'd been picking absentmindedly at the salad that made up her lunch when the first customer of her shift had arrived. Now she was standing tensely in front of him, eyes still red with tears through her magenta bangs. The man seemed oblivious to this as he skimmed through the menu, though.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked, smiling brilliantly as he set the bottle down on the table.

Ichigo frowned, pursing her lips at the sudden invitation. "Pardon?"

"I mean you don't look like you're doing anything," he commented. "Ichigo, right? That's what the label says. Isn't it a little warm to be wearing a coat like that?"

"Please, sir, if I could just take your order. I'm very busy," Ichigo said impatiently, tugging on the sleeves of her pink cashmere sweater.

"Busy with what?" he insisted, leaning towards her. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but there aren't any other customers." The man had intense blue eyes, which gleamed as he spoke. He was wearing a black vest and white slacks, which she also found unusual but wasn't rude enough to comment on.

"May I help you, sir?" Ichigo asked through her teeth, hoping he wasn't some pervert that'd mistaken her for a desperate girl craving attention as she wiped her still wet eyes on the back of her hand.

"Tell me, Ichigo, what would you do with ¥1,000,000?"

* * *

**Thursday, May 17, 10:07:43 AM. Mizuho Bank, Police Surveillance Tape.**

BANK TELLER: "I can help the next customer over here."

_MOMOMIYA ICHIGO approaches counter._

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "Good morning."

BANK TELLER: "Good morning! Will you be making a withdrawal or deposit today, ma'am?

_MOMOMIYA ICHIGO pulls on mask, before drawing firearm from coat pocket._

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "I'd like to make a withdrawal, please."

BANK TELLER: "Oh my God-"

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "I don't want anyone to get hurt. The faster you retrieve the money from the vault, the faster I can leave."

BANK TELLER: "O-Okay- Please don-don't shoot-"

_SHIROGANE RYOU steps out of line, raising firearm in the air. Fires gun twice._

SHIROGANE RYOU: "Everybody on the ground!"

_Customers drop to floor._

SHIROGANE RYOU: "This will only take a moment of your time, so if you cooperate, I won't have to kill anybody. Think of your families, and don't do anything stupid."

**Thursday, May 17, 10:29:16 AM. Mizuho Bank, Police Surveillance Tape.**

_Back door opens. SHIROGANE RYOU enters._

SHIROGANE RYOU: "I took care of the guards, but we need to hurry it up, Strawberry. I think the police are on their way."

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "What! Are you serious?"

SHIROGANE RYOU: "Afraid so."

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "Damn it! How did they respond so fast!"

SHIROGANE RYOU: "One of the guards had a cell phone."

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "Oh God, I can't believe this is happening-"

SHIROGANE RYOU: "Relax, moron. This won't take five minutes. I opened the vault, and all the girl needs to do is enter the access code.

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "Moron!? Who are you calling a moron? You wouldn't last five minutes without me-"

SHIROGANE RYOU: "You can thank me later."

_SHIROGANE RYOU pauses._

SHIROGANE RYOU: "You, in the black coat! Put your hands above your head!"

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "What the hell are you doing?"

MAN: "Don't take another step! I'm a cop!"

SHIROGANE RYOU: "I'm warning you! I'll shoot!

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "God damn it, Shirogane, put that gun down or _I'll_ shoot!"

_Man fires gun._

MOMOMIYA ICHIGO: "Oh my God-!"

_Gunfire erupts._

* * *

_". . .In the top story tonight, the notorious La Fresa bank robbers, hailed as a modern day Bonnie and Clyde, were spotted again earlier today in downtown Tokyo at Mizuho Bank. The pair made off with almost 1.8 million dollars in American money, eluding arrest once more, and injuring two policemen in the process. For those who have been following the story in the papers, this is the seventh heist the couple, recently identified as Japanese citizens Shirogane Ryou and Momomiya Ichigo, who went missing last spring, has made this year. . ."_

"Shirogane! Quick, get in here!"

_"The pair's ability to hack the most complex security systems with such limited resources continues to baffle authorities, and the police have released a statement that a reward of ¥5,000,000 will be offered to anyone with knowledge leading to the whereabouts of either fugitive. . ."_

"Can it wait a second? I'm getting dressed!"

"The TV! We're on TV!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Our heist! It's the top story on the news!"

A mop of blonde hair appeared on the edge of Ichigo's vision as the weight of the bed shifted beneath her. Ryou sat down beside her, already fishing a lighter out of his pants pocket as his eyes locked on the small television set. Ichigo had known him for over a year, and was yet to see him for five minutes without a cigarette in hand's reach. He picked up the remote, turning up the volume.

It was a little surreal for Ichigo to see herself on the 9 o'clock news. The picture of her, taken at a school dance in freshman year, featured her wearing a glittering white prom dress, her pink hair pinned up. In the picture she was laughing, posing with her boyfriend. Wearing a baggy orange sweatshirt and boxers, eating Doritos out of a bag in a motel room with only a few traces of the hair dye left in her shoulder-length locks, Ichigo couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that glamorous. It was like looking at a different person.

Ryou's picture was barely a blur in comparison, his strained smile the only thing she could make out clearly. He looked like he was wearing a suit, maybe sipping champagne.

_". . .eyes brown, just over five feet tall. They were last seen driving a stolen green Range Rover with dealer plates. Both fugitives are to be considered armed and dangerous, and it is recommended not to approach them on your own. The police hotline is available 24/7, and will be accepting tips. . ."_

Still sprawled out on the stained comforter, Ichigo munched on a chip, watching the footage of their car chase on the highway, taken from a helicopter in hot pursuit. It had taken some pretty impressive steering to get out of that one.

Ryou pressed the power button on the remote.

"Is there a reward?" he asked coolly, sitting up.

"¥5,000,000 for information on our whereabouts," Ichigo said, rolling over onto her back.

The blonde man smirked, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Pretty impressive, considering the circumstances. You did good today."

"Are you kidding? I did fantastic!" The younger girl grinned.

Ryou blew a ring of smoke into her face. "Don't get too excited, Strawberry. I'm not going to let you be in charge too often. You can't even fire a gun."

"How hard can it be? It's all instincts, really." Ichigo shifted uncomfortably, making a face as he leaned over her. She'd admittedly seen Ryou in a whole lot less, having become accustomed to him rooting through the laundry in only his boxers, but it was a whole different story when he was several inches from her face. "Can you put on a shirt? I'm beginning to feel violated," she scowled.

He smirked. "You should be thanking me for the free show- What boy would date a girl with an ugly face like that?"

"You- You pig! For your _information_-" Ichigo's mouth snapped shut in irritation. "You know what, I don't have to deal with this." She pushed Ryou's body away, forcibly ignoring the firm muscles beneath her hand.

"No need to get cranky with me, Strawberry," he chuckled.

Sometimes Ichigo wanted to throttle the blonde man, to grab him by the neck and wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. But then she'd remember the man she'd met in that café so long ago, the one with the cocky attitude but the beautiful smile and crystal blue eyes, who was trying to escape his problems, too.

He was the same person, of course, but it seemed like he was still a stranger to her. What she actually knew about him was limited to practically nothing, except that he was a chain-smoker and regularly bought science journals from newsstands they passed. She didn't know how old he was. The name Shirogane Ryou might have been an alias.

But although she'd never admit it, she really did need him.

_Because. . ._

"What are you doing?"

Ichigo rolled off the bed, making her way through the cramped apartment into the kitchen. It hardly qualified as a kitchen, though, as she could barely turn around without knocking over a week's worth of empty instant ramen containers. Standing on her toes, she slid open the window above the sink and stuck her head out.

"I'm _trying_ to get some fresh air. It smells like an ashtray in this dump."

From their room on the third floor, Ichigo could hear the couple screaming at each other in the apartment opposite them. The cool night air was alive with the sound of car alarms and howling dogs, the smell of putrid garbage slowly wafting up from the alley below. Ichigo gagged a little, before closing the window.

"You'd think that with so much money we'd be able to rent a nicer place," she grumbled aloud.

"You know we can't do that. We're-"

"-Living under the radar. Yeah, yeah." She scowled. "Man, it sucks being a fugitive." She began to shove the trash piling up in the sink into a bag.

"Now what?"

"I'm cleaning up. You might be able to survive in this hellhole, but I refuse to live like an animal."

Ichigo kicked candy-bar wrappers out of her path, bending over to dig a pair of jeans out of the accumulating pile. It wasn't until she'd stood up and folded up the pants that she noticed Ryou leaning against the fridge, arms crossed over his chest, watching her.

Ichigo frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, smiling at her. Ichigo actually found herself blushing (_blushing_, for God's sake) and hastily turned away, setting the pants on the counter beside her.

"We should probably get some sleep. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow, Shirogane."

* * *

The pair had had some pretty close calls before, and Ichigo was used to being woken up at four o' clock in the morning to pack. Ryou kept close tabs on a police scanner they'd bought off the street, and would rouse the younger girl at the smallest suspicion of a lead.

But when Ichigo was woken up this morning, Ryou seemed almost. . ._panicked_.

"We've got to go."

"Mmm?"

"We've got to _go_," he repeated in the darkness beside her. "Get dressed and grab the money."

"Could you at least turn on the lights?" Ichigo mumbled, sitting up in her bed. "I can't see a thing."

"You don't understand, Strawberry. The police are _here_, with a _warrant_. Someone must've seen the car, and they know we're nearby."

Ichigo's eyes snapped open. "How long do we have?"

"About ten minutes. They're searching the rooms one by one. They've got the main entrance blocked off, though, so we're going to have to find another way out."

"The window!" she hissed, fumbling blindly for the suitcase. "There's only a ten-foot drop down onto a dumpster against the opposite wall, and we can probably get to the car from there."

Ichigo was barely able to make out his nod in the darkness, and moments after she'd pulled on a t-shirt they were both clambering through the kitchen window.

Ichigo heard a _thud_ from below as Ryou landed.

"Are you okay?" she called softly.

"Fine. Just jump!"

Ichigo launched herself from the window, rolling with the impact. A year ago that would have nearly killed her, but now Ichigo merely dusted herself off as she got to her feet. They dropped down onto the concrete, unlocking the back gate.

"Freeze!"

Ichigo's stomach plummeted. That voice could only mean one thing. She found herself staring with wide eyes at the oncoming officer behind her, unable to comprehend what was suddenly happening. The police had set lookouts, it seemed.

"Drop your weapon!" the man shouted, raising his gun.

"Ichigo, duck!" Ryou barked, and before she knew it bullets were whizzing past her head. It was like every nightmare she'd ever had, only this time she wasn't dreaming. The blood on her chest was hot and red and all too real. Her hands were on her stomach, searching blindly for an exit wound, before it dawned on her that it wasn't her blood.

"Shit!" Ryou hissed, stumbling. The gun fell from his hand as he keeled over.

"Ryou!" Ichigo cried. Her mind wasn't functioning and before she could consider the possibilities adrenaline was taking over and the gun was in her hands (_"because it's all instincts anyway"_) and she was lifting it eye-level. She fired the gun twice, unloading the remaining shots into the officer's gut.

Ichigo couldn't even will herself to check the cop's pulse. She was too busy rolling Ryou over, checking the bullet hole.

". . .You're okay," Ichigo said blankly, eyes flitting to his leg, where the bullet was lodged into his kneecap.

"Hurts like a bitch, though," Ryou breathed. His voice was shallow through his gritted teeth, but he was conscious and alive.

"We need to get to the car," she said. She helped him to his feet, ignoring his strangled moan of pain as he put pressure on his left foot.

She couldn't think. She couldn't feel. She could barely breathe.

Ichigo climbed into the driver's seat, hastily slamming the keys into the ignition. It took two tries to start the car, and when the motor finally started, she backed the car straight through the chain-link fence it was parked in front of.

"We have to get out of here," Ryou said through gritted teeth as he ripped his shirt into long strips, tying them around his leg.

"I'm not sure we can rent another motel room with you like this, Shirogane."

"Don't worry. I have an old friend who'll help us out."

"How can you even talk in your condition?"

"What can I say," he hissed. "I guess I'm a bit of a masochist."

The friend Ryou was talking about lived just on the outskirts of Tokyo, and Ichigo was able to find the modest one-story home without any sign of the police. She parked the car against the side of the house and retrieved the briefcase from the back of the car before helping the older man up the porch steps.

The door was answered by a man maybe in his early thirties with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail. An apron was tied around his waist, while he was holding a spatula in one hand. He stared at the pair for only a moment before he moved the support the limping Ryou inside.

"Get the medical supplies from the bathroom," the brunette commanded, and it took Ichigo several seconds to realize he was talking to her. He was surprisingly levelheaded for someone who'd just been presented with two blood-soaked criminals. Ichigo had the feeling that maybe this had happened before from the way he didn't even seem to notice the dark red stain forming on his meticulously perfect carpet.

"Do you have any experience with removing bullets, Momomiya-san?" the man asked after they'd helped Ryou into the bathtub. He was injecting something into Ryou's leg with a needle.

"No, sir," Ichigo said, shaking her head.

"Ryou will guide you through it," he said. He handed her something that resembled a scalpel. "It's fairly straightforward."

He paused, and to her surprise smiled at her. "I've heard a lot about you on the news, Momomiya-san, and I must admit it's an immense pleasure to finally meet you."

He stood up to leave and Ichigo's eyes widened. "Where are you going?"

"I'll have to call someone to get rid of the car," he explained. "I'm afraid I must also wash the blood off the pavement before the neighbors notice."

Ichigo was left staring at the blade in her hand.

"The drug should have set in by now," Ryou panted. "You can cut it out now."

Ichigo stared at the scalpel, then the hunk of meat that currently constituted as his leg, before promptly turning towards the toilet and throwing up last night's dinner in the porcelain bowl.

"O-Oh G-God," she heaved, wiping her mouth off with the back of her hand. It was like the last hour was being replayed in her mind all over again. The policeman, the inky crimson blood, the gun still warm in her hands. . .

She thought of the officer, mouth open in surprise as he crumpled into an unmoving heap. She didn't mean to cry, but the tears were spilling over the side of her face before she could stop.

"D-Damn it. He's dead, isn't he?" she sobbed. "I killed him, and now he's dead."

Ichigo closed her eyes, blocking out the blood covering the bathroom tile.

* * *

_knock, knock._

"Shirogane? Are you awake?"

"Yeah."

Ichigo pushed the door open, peering into the guest room. It was dark except for the bedside lamp, which illuminated Ryou's dim form in the blackness. She closed the door behind her.

"Akasaka-san said I should come check up on you, see if your bandages need changing."

Ryou put out his cigarette. "I'm not totally helpless, Strawberry. It's my leg that's hurt, not my brain."

"I know that," she said, frowning. "Excuse _me_ for trying to be nice."

Ryou set down the book he'd been reading. "Sorry. You have my full attention now."

"Akasaka-san also says that maybe we should think about, I dunno, turning ourselves in or something. I guess the police have some leads since we left everything at the last place."

"Don't worry about Keiichiro. He gets concerned easily. The police couldn't possibly trace us back here."

"I guess you're right." Ichigo awkwardly stepped closer, chewing her lip. "Er, I'm sorry. About today. I-I kind of overreacted earlier. You know. . ." She waved her hand vaguely.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Strawberry. It's understandable that you'd take his death hard."

Ichigo shifted uncomfortably, playing with a strand of red hair.

"If it makes you feel any better, you saved my life back there."

"Eh? What are you talking about? I was scared, so you got shot!"

"There's no way you could have foreseen that," he said. "But if you hadn't reacted so quickly, he would have killed me. I guess I owe you one, now."

"B-But your leg-"

He shrugged. "It's nothing."

"But how do you know he didn't like, permanently damage it or something? You might not ever walk again!"

Ryou smiled sadly at her. "I know what I'm talking about, Strawberry. Before my parents died, they sent me to medical school."

To Ichigo's horror she felt tears pricking at the edge of her vision again. She didn't want him to tell her this. It was too personal. She didn't want to know, because it made this all so much more real.

"Well it doesn't matter, anyway. You don't owe me anything, idiot!" she exclaimed, folding her arms across her chest. "You've saved my life already."

"Not really. You've always been able to manage on your own-"

"No! You don't understand!" she cried. "Before I met you, I wanted to _kill_ myself!"

The surprise she'd expected didn't come. Instead, he stared solemnly at her, causing her to turn away. She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but her lips were already moving again.

"That boy in the picture with me. . .on the news. . .We were going to get married," she said softly. "I thought I was in love with him, and when he. . ."

Her voice trailed off, her fists clenching and unclenching. "I-I had it planned out and everything. I'd even bought the sleeping pills. But then I met you!" It wasn't until her brown eyes met his that she realized she was standing closer, only the bed separating them.

"I don't regret anything that's happened so far. I don't regret running away from my family, or robbing all those banks. I don't even regret killing that man, because I got to meet _you_!"

Ichigo closed her eyes. "After Aoyama-kun left me, I thought I'd never recover. I wasted so many tears on him that I promised myself I'd never cry again. But when I'm with you I don't want to cry, because, as crazy as it sounds, I'm actually happy!"

She was afraid Ryou would ruin the moment with some snarky comment, but for once he said nothing.

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her across the bed towards him, turning her arm over in his hands. He stared at the scars that had faded to faint pink lines on the inside of her forearm, which he'd never been allowed to mention before.

Now he ran a calloused finger over each line, tracing the only evidence left of Ichigo's previous life.

"A masochist orphan and a suicidal ex-girlfriend that rob banks." Ichigo giggled through the tears. "Man, we are so fucked up. I'm gonna need so much therapy."

"Maybe they'll let you plead insanity when we're caught," Ryou said dryly.

"That's not going to happen, because I don't want to get caught, Ryou. I can't go back now." Ichigo smiled. "You're all I need. I want- I want to keep on running. We'll be fugitives forever!"

Ryou pulled her closer, tilting her head upwards, brushing his nose against hers.

"Because. . ."

She closed her eyes.

"Because. . ."

Ryou pressed his lips against hers, silencing her as he gripped her shoulders with her hands.

"You're such an idiot," he murmured against her lips, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

_Because I love you._

* * *

_". . .Yesterday twenty-two-year-old Shirogane Ryou and eighteen-year-old Momomiya Ichigo were shot to death by officers during an ambush of a downtown Tokyo suburban home after one of the most colorful and spectacular manhunts Japan has yet to see. Shirogane, suspected of numerous killings, was wanted for assault, armed robbery, and kidnapping. At approximately 9:00 a.m. on May 23, police surrounded the private residence of Akasaka Keiichiro after tracing eyewitness reports back to him. Officers searched the home and discovered almost ¥10,000,000,000 in cash, before it was discovered that the pair had escaped in a stolen police car, and made their way almost nine miles, where they were cornered by officials. When the pair refused to surrender, lawmen opened fire, killing Shirogane and Momomiya, while shooting a combined total of approximately 130 rounds. By 9:34, the couple was dead. Both criminals were killed instantly by shots to the head."_


End file.
